Change
by Sofa King Danny
Summary: ONESHOT: Everything about South Park feels wrong, and nothing ever changes. [KylexCartman]


**Disclaimer.** I don't own South Park, I'm just messing around with it.

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For some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything about this place was _wrong._

I don't know if anyone else felt the same way. I'd never had the courage to ask them. I knew how they'd react anyway, and I couldn't handle it.

Maybe that was why it felt wrong. Maybe everyone was too predictable, and everyone was too afraid to try to change it. Or maybe it was the stench of death hanging over the place, or all the sex and sin and filth that every home was littered with.

Or maybe it was Kyle.

Kyle and I had always been "friends," but we never really _liked _each other. It was like we had some legally binding document saying "Eric Theodore Cartman and Kyle Broflovski are friends," but we didn't honor our wedding vows and wanted a divorce but we were both too lazy to actually get one. Because Kyle and I hated each other.

At least I _thought_ I hated him.

Eventually I got sick of being me. I never had any _real _friends. I never had a father figure. People made fun of me, for being fat, stupid, and mean. I wanted to change, I really did. But I was too afraid. I couldn't handle change, and no one else in South Park could either.

Kyle found me in the bathroom, clutching a knife and staring at my reflection. I dropped the knife and broke down crying when I saw him. He put his arm around me, and I held him tightly and cried harder than I ever cried before. He whispered in my ear and told me that it would be okay. I told him it could never be okay, because everything about South Park is wrong. I told him it could never be okay, because nothing in South Park can ever change. I told him it could never be okay, because I hated myself and I was too confused. It could never be okay, because no one understood. No one ever understood. He stood there, hugging me as I cried, all night until I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was gone.

The next day I went to school, and when he saw me, he said, _hey fatass._ I said, _shut up Jew. _And that was it. Nothing changed. In South Park, nothing ever changes.

That night I went home, and I cried again. I was afraid and confused. Kyle had held me, and nothing had changed.

Well, nothing except my feelings. My hidden feelings that nobody else was remotely aware of. The feelings that I cried out every night before I went to bed. Those changed, they changed a lot. My feelings about Kyle changed, and my already negative feelings about myself worsened.

I went back into the bathroom and picked up the same knife and tried to slit my wrists, because I wanted Kyle to come save me again.

I woke up, bandaged, in a hospital bed. I might have been hooked up to life support, I dunno. I think I did such a crappy job of trying to kill myself that they didn't need it. The only person next to me was Kyle. I asked where Stan, and Kenny, and my mom were. He told me Stan and Kenny didn't come, and my mom would come soon with something she baked for me.

_But I'm here for you, Cartman. I'm here for you._

I asked him why he came if Stan and Kenny didn't. I asked him why he cared about the fat kid. The fat, mean, stupid kid that had been his enemy for as long as we had known each other. He said that after seeing me with the knife, he finally understood who I was, and _why_ that's who I was. It was like there was a big wall in front of my brain, and Kyle had finally knocked it down and seen what was on the other side.

_I'm sorry, Cartman. I didn't know… I-I didn't know…_

I asked him why he believed me. Why he didn't think this was another one of my tricks, another thing I put up with just to pull one over on him. He said he didn't think any of those things were tricks to begin with. No, the few slips of crying and compassion I'd had in the past weren't acts, the cruelty I covered them up with was the act.

_You're a good liar, Cartman. But you can stop lying now._

I asked him if he thought South Park felt wrong, the way I did. He said he felt the same way, like it was just something in the air that wasn't right.I asked him what he thought was the cause of that feeling, what was wrong with South Park.

_I don't think what's wrong is South Park. I think what's wrong is us. _

He leant down and to my surprise, he placed a kiss on my lips. It felt… good. It felt… right. I kissed back, and suddenly I knew. I knew what was wrong with South Park.

As Kyle broke the kiss and patted me on the head, it was his turn to ask a question.

_Does it feel wrong now?_

I shook my head with a smile as my mom came into the room carrying a chocolate cake that read _Get Well Soon_ in a glob of yellow icing. And somehow, I think South Park managed to change, just a little bit. Just enough that this stupid town could handle it.

I don't think anything could ever feel wrong again.

_-Fin_


End file.
